


Double Team

by Anonymous



Category: Streets of Rage (Video Games)
Genre: Bondage, F/F, F/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Waking up, handcuffed, in front of the crime lords you've been angling to bring to justice is never a good thing.  The Y Siblings have Blaze Fielding at their mercy.  And they have such plans...
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21, Fanfic Anonymous





	Double Team

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlight/gifts).



Blaze woke up, head throbbing. She tried to replay the events of how she ended up waking up in the dark. Head trauma was involved. Okay, they were fighting… Mr. Y, one of the co-crime lords of the city…

“Sleeping on the job, officer? Well, that jolted her awake the least.

Hands were cuffed behind her back; which she realized when she tried to push herself to her feet to face the sound of the voice. She was _out_ of it. It took her too long to force herself to a seated position. Yep, Mr. Y was there, along with his sister. The scrawny punk had an ear-to-ear grin, while his sister kept a neutral expression, standing and giving Blaze a side-profile view.

“Seriously, you fight your way across the entire city, fighting your way through a gang members, corrupt cops, rioters, outlaw bikers, and you decide to take a nap right on the finish line?”

“She was in a plan crash.” Ms. Y said, scowling slightly. “ _Our_ plane. That you crashed.”

Oh yeah. Getting into a fistfight in the cockpit of a private jet. Did she suplex a dominatrix? Or was that some other time?

“And I said I’d make it up to you.” Mr. Y beamed, extending both hands towards the bound fighter.

“Where are Axel and…”

“There’s a lot of wreckage to sift through.” Mr. Y shrugged. “Really hope your friend Mr. Stone didn’t make it.”

Blaze actually managed to get to her feet. Concussed, sore over her entire body, bound, she managed to spring up. Adrenaline was a hell of a thing. She surprised herself. Mr. Y was more surprised though, catching a foot with his chest.

They really should’ve bound her feet.

She was just about to stomp his stupid, prettyboy face in when cold metal pressed against her neck. The sister, with a rapier. Blaze glowered trying to work out a plan of attack. Okay, she was getting a little dizzy, and there were two of them, and her hands were bound, and she didn’t have the element of surprise anymore.

Oh yeah, and that sword.

“You know, Brother…” Ms. Y said, completely bored sounding. “You’re doing a very good job making things up to me.”

Then, she turned her attention to Blaze. “I think I’ll keep her.”

“Hey.” Mr. Y said, getting to his feet, hand on his sternum, frown on his face. Suddenly, he started to grin. “She’s to make up for _our_ jet. _We’ll_ keep her.”

Blaze did not like the sound of that.

She liked Mr. Y reaching a hand under her skirt less.

The siblings wrestled her to the ground easily, nipping at her neck. She tried to throw a few kicks by between the disorientation and the efforts of the siblings, she didn’t manage much. Skirt bunched up around her face, panties torn away, and fingers inside her, her struggles started to get more erratic.

She needed to think. 

That was getting very hard to do.

“So, sis… does she make up for the plane?” Mr. Y asked, pausing as Blaze let out a moan.

After sliding a hand underneath the former cop’s top and squeezing, Ms. Y said, noncommittally. “She’s a little banged up.”

Mr. Y apparently found that funny, given his laugher. Fingers _curled_ inside Blaze and she whined. “Sad you didn’t get to break her in yourself?”

“I think I’ll manage.” Ms. Y lowered her head, kissing a bruise on the side of Blaze’s ribs. She kept nipping her way down, shoving her brother away from Blaze’s legs. “I’ve been waiting for this for years.”

“Since your father…” Blaze was going to say something cutting about the deaths of their father, but shuddered and moaned as Ms. Y went to work with her mouth.

“Well yes, you and your friends did off the old man. Such a shame, leaving us the sole heirs to his empire.” The brother said, looking down at his sister eating out his enemy. “Less revenge, more control.”

“He had such… _vivid_ things he wanted to do to that ‘lady cop that dressed like a streetwalker’.” Ms. Y said then immediately went back to licking Blaze.

Thinking of a comeback, or a way to escape, or anything was impossible for Blaze with what Ms. Y was doing to her. When Mr. Y tore away her top and got to work on her breasts, all she could do was lie there and hate herself for how she was reacting.

She lost track of who was where—she thought the siblings were switching positions; two lean, white-haired criminals out of focus in the haze surrounding by her head. Someone was counting _something_. He screams, how many times things went from hazy to insanely intense. 

Her next actual clear thought was when she was facedown, two hands gripping her hair. Something hard pressed against her slit. Mr. Y. His sister was laying in front of her, at some point having discarded the dark dress she was wearing. She stared impassively but intently as she felt him tense up, and then

She yelped when he drove in.

He drove in, fast and hard, muttering some insults while yanking on her hair. Blaze screwed her eyes shut as the crime lord fucked her into the floor. He kept driving in, over and over. One hand left Blaze’s hair and slapped her ass.

She gritted her teeth and tried not to react, but opened her eyes. Something had _changed_ in Ms. Y’s expression, somehow. She looked, rather annoyed. 

“Think you’re making her jealous.” Blaze muttered. Some half-formed plan to distract him? “Playing with her toy.” 

“Actually, I think _you_ are.” Mr. Y said, pulling out suddenly, shoving her on her side.

He walked over to his sister, who quickly pulled him to the floor and mounted him. 

_What_.

Well… _that_ gave her some time to clear her thoughts. Okay, hands cuffed behind her. No bobby pins a set of keys or anything in convenient distance. She struggled to remember that trick she picked up, manipulating her wrists to force the handcuff chain together. Do it right, and with the right application of force… it required both a lot of finesse and a lot of force. But she could just…

“Fuck yes!”

Ms. Y’s scream jolted her _right_ as she was getting the right angle. She bit her tongue, and started again.

When Mr. Y yelled out and broke her concentration, Blaze buried her face against the stone floor. Okay, third time’s a… oh great, they were coming over. Mr. Y shoved her onto her back with his foot. She looked up at the two of them. Ms. Y had a grin on her face to match her brother’s, for once. He coughed “Okay, my sister played _so nice_ with you and you had so much fun. So…”

“Return the favor.” Mr. Y said, getting on her knees, straddling Blaze’s face, grabbing a handful of her hair, and pulling her close.

Okay.

Blaze started to lick, eyes closed, doing her best to ignore the taste of both siblings. She had to focus on keeping them distracted, while also getting the cuffs off. Ignore Ms. Y’s moans. Ignore Mr. Y’s commentary, just bunch of the chain of the handcuffs and.

Suddenly, a rusty door squeaked open.

She screamed in rage against Ms. Y’s crotch.

“Sir, ma’am!” The guard said, no hesitation in his voice over this tableau. “The other cop, and the fed and…”

“Their alive. _Wonderful_. And?” Out the corner of her eye, Blaze saw Mr. Y. hopping on one foot, trying to pull up his pants. 

Ms. Y let go of her hair and began to rise.

“I can handle this, sister.” Mr. Y said, then abruptly adding. “Yes, I know, like I handled them on the plane. Don’t worry. We have dozens of men…”

Oh, dozens. After Axel, Cherry, and Floyd had punched their way through an entire city. Blaze tried to not laugh, because after _this day_ that was the best news she could’ve hoped for.

“… so stay and finish up.”

Ms. Y relaxed, pulling Blaze against her again. “Sure. When you’re done with them… we still have to finish breaking her in.”

Blaze ignored the pat on the head Ms. Y gave her and continued to work. Okay, the door squealed shut again, Ms. Y _painfully_ tugged on her hair and screamed, reached behind herself and pinched Blaze. Ground against her.

Everything she could to humiliate the ex-cop.

Which made the _clink_ when a link in the chain gave way all the better.

Almost as good as the look on Ms. Y’s face when she was shoved off of Blaze. Just a momentary spark of fright, that dissolved back into the slight grimace. Blaze saw her eyes drift to the stone floor, where a rapier lay next to a discarded black dress.

For her part, Blaze stretched, worked out a little stiffness, and cracked her knuckles.

When the younger woman went for the sword and Blaze rushed in and nailed her with a right to the jaw, and began a flurry of punches and kicks she'd been planning for <em>way</em> too long on that cold stone floor, she smiled. After the day she had, she needed this.


End file.
